


A Long Story

by Star_seeker



Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But No Amount of Babysitting can Hide Him from Primus, Cybertronian History, In Which Optimus is Everyone's Babysitter, Light Romantic Subplot, Light to Moderate Angst, Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Plenty of Fluff and Humor to Balance, Rebellion, War, replacing this one with a better version down the line but this is staying for archival purposes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-04-13 05:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4510389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_seeker/pseuds/Star_seeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus Prime looks back on his life and the journey that led him here. From the days of Quintesson rule to the early Cybertronian Civil War, this is the story of how a quiet young librarian became the fire-and-steel hero we know and love today.</p><p>***THIS VERSION DISCONTINUED.  UNDERGOING REWRITE AND WORLDBUILDING TWEAKS***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Prologue: **

I sat on the cliff, hidden behind a pile of fallen rock, my arms wrapped around my knees and my optics fixed on the space between the stars. The air was cool, making the roaming heat signatures of a pack of coyotes all the more visible. Distantly, an owl called a greeting to the night, almost drowned out by the low rumble of the stereo Spike and Chip had left behind that afternoon. Jazz and Blaster were probably listening to it now, filling the silence that came with the night watch-shift. I could feel the crackle of lightning in the air -- The desert would get a storm soon. I didn’t care. My third double-strength energon cube of the night sat beside me, half empty. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get enough of a buzz going to dull the thoughts ripping through my head. I never could anymore. Just another of Primus’ gifts, it seemed.

_If I’d just been faster, would anything have been different? If I’d stepped in sooner, or taken charge earlier, would they be gone? What if I’d never left? Would we still have lost her? Would there even_ be _a war right now? Would I still be here? Would_ they? _What if --_

“Hey, Prime.”

I turned, surprised to hear someone’s voice. “Bumblebee? Why are you out here?” _Great. I need to find a new spot now._ Without even thinking, I felt myself sit up straighter, and the mask came down. Primus, it was getting harder and harder to act like the leader they needed.

“I could ask you the same thing.” ’Bee came down the rock pile and sat beside me, his legs dangling over the edge.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Then don’t make me,” he retorted with a wry grin, but then it was gone. “Seriously. Drop the act. It’s just you and me out here.”

I raised an eyebrow, but let the wall fall, just a bit. “How could you tell?”

“Come on, Optimus. Surely you know I’m a better spy than that.”

I laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time with the humans, apparently. No respect.” I reached for the cube again.

“Careful, Prime.” His optics were fixed on the horizon. “You’re starting to sound like Kup.”

I snorted and choked on my energon. It was chance that kept the cube in my hand, instead of tumbling down into the desert below, as I coughed. Even that small amount was still highly volatile -- no need to explain to the humans why there was now a large crater in one of their territories. I leaned my back against the pile of tumbled stone, setting the energon cube safely on the ground. “You never answered my question.”

“I followed you. You never answered mine.”

I stared up at the sky, trying to come up with an answer. The coyotes yapped and laughed, evidently having found something worth the chase. Bumblebee followed my gaze. “It almost feels like you could see straight to Cybertron on a night like this.”

“…Yes,” I agreed. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“Is that why you’re out here? Too many memories?”

I looked down at Bumblebee, surprised. “Ah-- Yes. How did you know?”

The younger mech laughed, but it was harsher this time.  “I’m in this war too, Optimus. I may not remember as much of Cybertron as the rest of you, but I do remember it.”

I shook my head, frustrated that he didn‘t understand. “No!  What you remember is the _war,_ not Cybertron! It was a mess by the time your processor could retain anything.” I took another pull from the cube, draining it. “And… I’m afraid I helped make it that way. I’m sorry.”

Bumblebee turned to me, concern clear on his face. “What? What are you talking about? Without you, Megatron would‘ve--”

I ran a hand over my face, trying to recompose myself -- another habit from the humans. _“No._ The first war. Megatron’s Rebellion.” _Ergh… He’s good, alright. Why can’t I shut up?_

Bumblebee nodded. “The Quintesson overthrow that happened when I was little. What about it?”

I sighed and looked back up at the stars. “It’s… not a pretty thing. To be honest, I’m glad you don’t remember. One war is more than enough for anyone.” I tried waiting him out, really I did, but the kid was too stubborn. He just sat there, watching the sky and waiting on me. Finally, I gave up and spoke. “It’s a long story.”

“Dawn’s a long way off, Optimus, and I doubt either of us really intended to sleep tonight.”

I could only nod at that. “Well,” I started, “it all began back in Iacon, my old hometown…”


	2. Chapter 2

**One** :

 

I woke at dawn, smiling, like I always did back then. I was still Optronix in those days, long before I knew of the Matrix and Sentinel Prime as anything but a child’s legend. Warm sunlight filtered in through my window, scattering patterns on the ceiling. I unhooked and slid off the recharge station, stretching as I walked over to look out on my city.

Iacon was a bustling metropolis, even in the early mornings, as both worker- and warrior-classes prepared for the day‘s activities. I watched a group of sparklings scamper along the sidewalk, datafile-cases in their hands as they laughingly dashed on to school. One, his superstructure painted purple, playfully shoved his green-hued companion, and the off-balance sparkling fell towards the road. My optics widened. A third, blue, reached out and snagged the second just as a Peacekeeper Patrol zipped by. I let out the breath I’d been holding. Most of the Peacekeepers were fast enough to stop before hitting someone, even with a nanoklik’s notice. As to the number who cared… I didn’t want to think about that.

All four were fine, though, it seemed. The yellow-and-orange fourth member of the group stood protectively over his green associate, with the blue sparkling standing between him and the purple, evidently trying to diffuse the argument. Just then a Peacekeeper motorbike pulled up, likely having peeled off the end of the patrol. The kids backed away, giving the Decepticon a chance to transform. I smiled as I recognized my friend’s distinctive headfins.

“’Morning, Prowl,” I called. He laughed and waved.

“Up early as always, eh, ’Tronix? Didn’t think your shift at the library started for a couple hexakliks. You see what happened here?”

I nodded and leaned further out the window, trying to make myself heard. “They were playing. Looked like an accident to me. Everyone’s okay now though, right?”

Prowl nodded and turned back to the kids. He said something I couldn’t hear, then made a shooing motion with his hands. The sparklings turned and ran along the sidewalk, jumping into their tri-jet forms as they hit the corner.

Prowl walked up to the wall below my window, smiling.  "So," he called.  "You doin' anything after work tonight?  Me and some others are gonna swing by Maccadams'.  Thought you might want to come."

I laughed and shook my head.  "Sorry, Prowl.  I've got an awful lot of being at home to do this evening.  Maybe some other time."

Prowl crossed his arms and tried to look dejected.  "Worth a shot, anyway.  My sister's gonna be disappointed, y'know.  She asked about you last time."

That surprised me.  "Elita's gonna be there?"

Prowl laughed.  "Figured that would change your mind.  I'll meet you at the library.  I'm going to assume you don't know the way to the pub."

"Hey," I protested.  "I never said I was going!"

"Sure.  You get off at seven, yeah?  See you then!"  Prowl waved again, grinning wide enough to split his face open, before taking to the streets in his own alternate form, off to rejoin his patrol.  I watched him go, shaking my head.  Somewhere along the line, my old friend had realized I was even more of a shut-in than he was, and had resolved to "actually make me have fun."  His sister, Elita One, had gotten in on it too, along with several of their friends.  I appreciated the intention, if not always the attention.  Maybe this would get them off my back for once.

Past the busy, multilayered streets, the Great Dome stood tall. That was the political center of the city, where the great Quintesson Judges debated the laws and kept our planet running. I could see the Spires inside the glass, gleaming and sparkling in the white sun’s light. One day I wanted to go there. I wanted to see the secret city-within-the-city that kept everything on Cybertron, so many tiny pieces and minute details, functional. Something about it was so compelling. Like being shown a datafile full of unknown information, and then being told to never access it. You don’t really know why, but all you want to do after that is pop it open and absorb every detail of what’s inside.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, watching the city come to life, but one of my dormmates was soon knocking at my door. “’Tronix? Hey, kid, you awake in there? The drones brought breakfast around a half-hexaklik ago! Ya‘d better come grab a couple capsules ‘fore I eat ‘em all!” The brisk old dockworker acted grumpy, but I knew he had a soft spot for me. Otherwise he probably wouldn’t have come to get me at all.

“Coming, Ironhide,” I called. “Thanks!” I tried to sound cheery, but I sighed as I turned from the window and moved around to the door. I touched a panel, and the wall slid open, revealing the older mech’s retreating back as he started down the hall. I glanced one last time out the window before stepping out of my unit and sealing it up. The window and door would close up airtight, not budging until I came home. Supposedly the stasis-locks would keep everything safe indefinitely. Some part of me began to wonder how they had come to that conclusion in the first place.

I shook off whatever funk I’d found myself in, and glanced at the timepiece on the wall. I still had a hexaklick and a half before I had to leave for the library. Plenty of time to grab an energon capsule before I headed out. I picked one up off the table in the common room, where the drone had left them, and started to sit down to eat.

Ironhide looked at me askance. “Ya figgered out how’ta teleport, kid?”

I paused, the glowing capsule halfway to my mouth. “Uh… No? Why?”

He pointed at the clock. “’Cause yer sittin’ down to a full meal when ya got a half-hexaklik ‘fore ya gotta be at work.”

I glanced up. “Oh _slaggit!_ I must’ve read the clock wrong!” Frantic, I jumped up and snagged a handful of capsules, shoving them haphazardly into my datafile case before bursting out the door.

I threw the case into subspace and leapt into my alternate as I hit the street. It took longer than I’d have liked to get out onto the skyways, but the view from there was always the best. The sunlight glittering off the shining buildings of the surface-city, the open sky above… It reminded me how lucky I was to be up here. There were layers to Cybertron, and the living conditions got worse the further down you went. If it wasn’t for the fact that my parents had worked their way up the data-keepers’ ladder, I’d probably have been born down there. I would always be grateful to them for that, no matter what else happened.

The Iacon Hall of Records was a beautiful piece of Old Cybertronian architecture, gleaming in gold and white, with tall golden towers supporting the edge of the round, shield-like roof. A golden dome swelled in the center, reflecting the white sun’s rays. The roads turned around it like the current of a river, sending the tide of busy Cybertronians to work or school. I smiled as I cut through the masses and pulled up to the building. This was home to me, more than my sparse living unit, more than the city itself. This was where the history of Cybertron, or what remained of it after countless aeons, lived and breathed. If the Great Dome was the pulsing spark-core of the planet, surely this was its memory unit.

I felt the familiar thrill in my circuits as I mounted the wide, shining flight of stairs and pushed open the tall golden doors. The open, high-ceilinged entryway was lined with more pillars, finished in white-and-chrome instead of gilding. At the reception desk by the door, one of the other junior apprentices was buried amidst a pile of open datafiles and holorecords.

"Good morning, Rewind,” I laughed. The little class-zero was the only mech I knew who spent more time reading than I did. He was a few years younger than I was, still technically too young to be employed anywhere, but Trion had made an exception for him, like he‘d made one for me years ago.

“’Mornin’ Optronix,” he chirped, not looking up from the filereader clutched in his hands. “Hey, did you know that Cybertron’s not the only inhabitable planet in the system? There’s evidence of several attempts to colonize nearby worlds! Isn’t that neat? I wonder why they never stuck?”

I snorted. “Where’d you get that nonsense? We haven’t even had the three moon bases for more than a few stellar cycles!”

“Perhaps these attempts were before the Quintessons took over,” a new voice spoke from behind me. I turned to see Trion, head data-keeper for the Hall, standing at the door to his office, a heavy filereader in his hand. The aged, red-and-purple mech approached and set the datafile on Rewind’s desk. “Here are the records you asked me about, young one.”

“Thanks!” Rewind set down the file he was so busy reading and snatched the new one up like a hungry child.

I blinked at my superior, confused. “ _Before_ the Quintessons ruled Cybertron? But… The planet was a chaotic mess beforehand. Wasn’t it?”

Trion peered curiously at me. I knew that look in his amber optics. It was a look that usually meant more work for me. “The… _approved_ texts certainly imply that, don’t they? And speaking of approved, you’re on sparkling-duty again today.”

I brightened at that. “Really? Thank you, sir!” Sparkling-duty was one of my favorite jobs, bringing datafiles to children in the lower reaches who needed them. I’d been looking forward to it circling back around to me for some time now. Most of the other data-keepers seemed to view it as a chore, so I had started applying for extra shifts two deca-cycles ago. The work might as well go to someone who enjoyed it, and no one seemed to mind.  Trion even seemed eager to send me out some days -- something I never thought twice about back then.

 

*******

 

Cybertron’s lower levels really weren’t as bad as others seemed to think. Oh, don’t get me wrong, it was terrible, but it’s not like you’d catch cosmic rust from just setting foot down there. It was a gradual decline, at least in Iacon. Immediately below the ‘surface-levels’--the first three or four levels of the planet, where the politicians, scientists, and high-ranking military commanders lived (along with the lucky few whose jobs required them to be on or near the surface, like the space-port workers) was the ‘sub-surface,’ home to the lower-rank military and high-paying workers. And so it went, down two or three more sections, until you got to the ‘core.’ See, one of the many things that made surface-living so preferable to sub-surface living was also one of the things that made travel between cities so dangerous; Iacon, like all other city-states of Cybertron, was isolated at the higher levels. There were bridges and tube-trains and things, but the planet only really had a solid surface at the ‘core’ level. Outside of city bounds, outlaw gangs ran rampant, and there was little protection for places or people so far beneath the surface’s notice.

And that was exactly where I was headed.

There was a little sparkling-care center there, in the center of the city. A woman named Prima ran it, and it was one of the only places parents knew they could send their kids where they’d be safe while they went to work. That, combined with the lack of educational opportunities down here, meant kids of all ages wound up there for the day. It was one of my favorite places to go, and I was always happy when my circuit ran me there.

It was a long, low building, the outer edge of the roof studded with electric lights. An old playground stood in back of it, the top of the clamber-helix poking out above the building. One sparkling, dark red in color and seated proudly atop the structure, stood as he spotted me, and pointed me out to his friends, some of whom could be seen climbing up after him. Shortly, there was a pack of children ready to meet me at the doors.

One, a little red mech who seemingly hadn’t picked out an alt mode yet, ran up to me as I transformed. “Ex- Excuse me,” he said, tapping on my arm, “would you, perchance, have any texts on electro-chemistry in your possession this time?”

I smiled and moved to open the trailer, packed full of datafiles, holo-records and enough file-readers for everyone. “Sure do, Perceptor. I made a note of it after you asked last time.”

The smile on the sparkling’s face was broader than almost any I’ve seen. The kid had a thirst for knowledge that baffled even me. He was small, but couldn’t have been much younger than I was; he’d be old enough to apprentice in one of the science labs in a year or so, I thought. I decided I’d bring him up to the surface with me next time, if he wanted to go and get a look at things, maybe pick out a lab.

Other sparklings weren’t far behind him, a pair, one black-and-white and the other red-and-orange running up to rifle through my trailer for any and all music-records, a little green-and-yellow mech requesting space exploration files, a dark red mech asking for war-history videos, a femme demanding medical texts… It went on for the better part of a hexaklik, as children came up and I brought out what they asked for, or I sadly apologized, and made notes for the next time I came down. Eventually, the trailer was emptied, and I was left standing with Prima as the sparklings hurried back inside to read or watch their prizes.

Prima was a tall, slim fembot, pale-blue-and-chrome, with a multi-crested head and two long white fins down her back, almost like wings. It was hard to tell what her alt-mode was, or if she even had one. I’d never seen her transformed, nor had it ever occurred to me to ask. Had I asked, I’m sure she would have smiled and politely informed me that it was really none of my business anyway.

She smiled at me and stepped forward, resting her free hand on my shoulder as she hiked the tiny yellow sparkling she held higher on her shoulder. “Thank you, Optronix, for doing this. I know it’s a long, dangerous journey down here and back up. Yet you never miss a trip. What keeps you coming back here?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know, Miss Prima. I just want to make sure these sparklings have as much opportunity and education as they can get. Knowledge is freedom, my mentor says.”

Prima nodded, a strange expression in her yellow optics. “And ignorance the fool’s prison. Yes, I once knew a mech who said much the same. There are few who would have the heart to come down this far, especially as chaotic as the lower levels have become. You are very brave, Optronix. Your dedication is greatly appreciated.”

That gave me pause. “Chaotic? What do you mean?”

She raised one eyebrow, her head tilting to the side. “You mean you don’t know?” She glanced around. “Come inside. We’ll talk about it in my office.”

Once inside, Prima passed the tiny sparkling off to one of the older children, a black-and-white mech who had been after the music-recordings, and ushered me into her office. A long desk, the same practical gray as the walls and two tall bookshelves that flanked the window behind it, stood in the center of the room. A simple chair sat behind the desk, with two smaller ones in front of it. She gestured for me to sit as she moved behind the desk. “Now.” Prima steepled her slender fingers and leaned on her elbows, tapping her forefingers against her chin. “As you know, Optronix, the areas outside Iacon limits are… Dangerous, yes?”

“I was aware,” I replied, vaguely irritated that she would question my knowledge of something so obvious.

She nodded, ignoring the edge to my voice. “Well, what defines ‘city limits’ has changed.”

“Go on.”

Prima sighed and moved from her chair, turning to stare out the window, hands folded behind her back. “It used to be that the limits of Iacon went all the way down to the core, each level mirroring the topmost, like a big cylinder.”

“And that’s changed?” The skeptical edge had returned to my voice, I‘m sorry to say. I found her tone and obvious statements demeaning, but that was no excuse to talk to her like that. Prima bowed her head and sighed in frustration, then turned around and sat on the edge of her desk.

“The Justice Department has been sending fewer and fewer patrols down here, and now they’ve completely stopped." She paused, letting the weight of that sink in. "As a result, the gangs that inhabit the ‘no-mech’s-land’ between the cities have been pushing farther and farther into Lower Iacon. Their territories have swallowed all but the upper levels of the city now. You’ve noticed that most of the children here are rather old to be attending, yes?”

I nodded. “Most of them looked about my age. Certainly old enough to apprentice somewhere. I had picked up on that, but I wasn’t going to ask. It didn’t seem to be any of my business.”

Prima bobbed her head thoughtfully in response. “Perceptive and polite. You’re a good mech, Optronix. Anyway, my point is that things are getting dangerous _everywhere_. If tensions are high down here, it won’t be long before they rise up on the surface, too.”

I frowned at that. “Danger at the surface levels? Miss Prima, I can’t help but disagree with you. Things have always been peaceful up there.”

Prima raised an eyebrow and leaned on one arm, her head rocking towards me. “Oh? You don’t travel much beyond your route to work and then back home, do you?”

I stuttered indignantly for a moment, then stifled it and shrugged. She was right, I just didn't like being reminded of it. “Not much else for me beyond that,” I said, feeling a need to justify myself. “Besides, I like my apartment. It’s--”

“Secure? Comfortable? Safe?” Prima shook her head and straightened, sliding off the desktop. “Maybe you should try to take in a view that’s bigger than the one your window gives you, Optronix. All the same, I hope you have a safe trip back up there.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, sliding out of the chair and taking a step towards the door. “I hope you guys stay safe, too.”

Prima laughed at that. “Oh, don’t worry. I can protect them.”

As she ushered me out the door, one of the sparklings ran up to me, file reader in hand and a worried look on his face. “Mister Optronix?” It was Red Alert, the young mech who always asked me for mystery and horror fiction -- Primus only knew why, the poor kid was always a nervous wreck after, Prima would tell me. He pressed the reader into my hand. “Mister Optronix, this struck me as something I wasn’t supposed to see.”

I frowned. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Confused, I glanced down at the title, still open on the screen. _“A History of Cybertron, Undiluted and Unaltered”_ stood out in bold script across the top, with the words _“as Recounted by The Third”_ written below, in smaller lettering. Undiluted and unaltered? The Third? What in the name of the Thirteen was I looking at here? Silently, I popped the datafile out and slipped it into subspace before passing the reader back to Red. “Thanks, kid,” I said distractedly. “Here. Go read something.”

Prima walked me to the front doors. “I saw what that was,” she whispered, glancing around to make sure the children were out of earshot. “Take that to your supervisor. I think that file is... Restricted.”

I nodded mutely, reaching for the doorpad. I’d report it all right -- But not until I’d read it. This file, combined with Trion's comments earlier that day...  Something just didn't make sense about all this.  And I wouldn't rest until I cleared things up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Two:**

 

I sat in an alcove on the uppermost floor of the Hall of Records, staring at the datafile in my hand. I was the only one on the floor, as usual, but I preferred it that way. I always felt safe here, so it had become my hideaway when I was nervous or frightened. Or anxious. Or just plain uncomfortable. Others I had asked about it said they felt strange up here, like they were being watched. I didn’t understand what they were talking about, but I wasn’t going to question it--More solitude for me.

Squaring my shoulders, I attached the file to the reader.  And disconnected it almost immediately.  For the fifth time.

_I’m not supposed to see this,_ I thought.  _I should take this right back down to Trion.  I shouldn’t have even looked at it.  This is wrong.  This is a Restricted File for a reason._

_But what_ is _that reason,_ a voice in the back of my processor asked.  _Why should this file be sealed away from the public?  What harm is there in a history text?  And how did it get into your trailer anyway?  If it’s so dangerous, how could it have been placed with the children’s files?_

My mouthplate worked up and down in agitation.  I knew I should have reported the mistake to Trion as soon as I got back to the Hall.  But I was curious--Incredibly so.  Restricted files didn’t just pop up out of nowhere.  Something strange _was_ going on, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this file was my first clue as to _what._

“Hey, Optronix!”

I yelped and jumped up, the file and reader tumbling from my grip.  “NothingProwlI’mfinewhat’supwithyou?!”

Prowl took a step back, hands raised in a placating gesture.  “Woah, buddy.  Relax; it’s not like I‘m gonna bite you or whatever.  You usually hear me coming up the stairs anyway-- Something on your mind?”

I snatched the file and reader up off the floor before he saw them.  “No, I’m fine.  Don’t worry about it.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “Sure, whatever.  You ready for tonight?”

“Huh?  Oh!”  Now I remembered.  Maccadam’s.  Prowl had invited me for drinks with his friends.  And Elita.

I had first met Elita One shortly after I met Prowl, and I had fallen for her almost immediately.  We had gotten into a debate over… Some nuance of Cybertronian political history, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since.  Intelligent, fiery, and beyond confident, she was the most beautiful femme I had ever had the honor of meeting.  She was so far out of my league, I had a better chance of ruling Cybertron than getting a date with her.  Prowl knew how I felt, as did Elita (I’m not a subtle person), and it was used against me more often than not.  This was one of those times.

“So,” Prowl asked after a moment, “are you done here?”

“Y-yeah.  I don’t have anything else to do, but could we stop by my apartment?  I’d like to drop this datafile off before I go out.”

 

***

 

Maccadam’s pub was a deceptively small building in the lower levels.  On the outside, it looked like it was on the edge of falling apart, straining under the pressure of the loud music and joyful shouting of the patrons.  Inside, the cacophony was even more intense, as bright lamps bathed everyone in obnoxiously yellow light, only dimming for a performance on the stage. 

I spotted Elita at a large table, just off the center of the main room, sitting with a bunch of people I couldn’t name, both Autobot and Decepticon.  A tall, dark blue femme sat at her right, feet on the table and an annoyed expression on her face.  Past her, there was a broad-shouldered femme in oranges and reds, leaning languidly on one elbow.  To Elita’s left was a dark green mech who looked a bit younger than the others, chattering excitedly with her about something.  On his other side was a tall, sharp-featured mech.  He was the first to see us, and stood as he waved. 

“Prowl!  We were starting to think you weren’t coming!”

Prowl laughed and took the older mech’s outstretched forearm in a friendly gesture.  “Flatfoot, you old pile of rust, what are you doing out here?  Thought an old mech like you would’ve been recharging hours ago!”

Flatfoot grinned and, quicker than I could register, had an arm around Prowl’s throat and the other hand restraining his free arm.  “Still fast enough to beat the bolts outta you, kid.”  He laughed as he let Prowl go, helping him get his balance with a lighthearted shove.  “Now, introduce us to your friend here.”

Elita glanced up at her brother.  “Yeah, Prowl, that’s pretty rude.  What would Dad say?”

Prowl just grinned right back at Elita.  “Not half as much as Mom would say, finding her only daughter at a place like this, talking to strange mechs, at this _unreasonable_ hour.”

Elita laughed and leaned back in her chair, hands raised in the same ‘I surrender’ gesture I’d seen Prowl make so many times in our debates and Tacitron games.

Prowl cleared his throat.  “Optronix, this is Firestar,” he gestured at the red-and-orange femme, “Chromia,” the blue femme, “My bratty sister--”

“Hey!”

“Hound, one of the outer-range scouts -- he’s home on shore leave for awhile,” the dark green mech waved, “and Flatfoot, my former mentor.”

Flatfoot snorted.  “You’ve still got too much to learn for me to be a ‘former’ anything, boy.”

Prowl shrugged and spun a chair around, crossing his arms over the back as he sat.  “Doesn’t change the fact that they stuck me on the beat, under Barricade’s watch.”

Flatfoot’s face twisted at the name, but he didn’t say anything.  Instead, he just tapped Elita on the shoulder.  “Hey.  Didn’t you two have a bet to settle?”

Elita groaned as she kicked a chair out for me.  “Fiiiine.  Prowl got the hermit out of his house.  First round’s on me.”

I lowered myself into the seat slowly, confused.  “What?”

Prowl smiled sheepishly.  “I said she’d asked about you.  I didn’t say _what_ she asked.”

My mouthplate tightened as my brow lowered.  “Are you serious, Prowl?  You dragged me out here just for a bet?”

An energon cube hit the table in front of me with a dull _thunk_.  I looked up to see Elita smirking at me, one hand still wrapped around the cube.

“Not just for a bet, Hermit.  Believe it or not, some of us actually enjoy your rare company.”

I felt like I needed to say _something_ , but no words came to mind.  Instead, I grabbed the energon cube and hid my face behind it as I took a pull, eliciting a cheer from Firestar.

By the time I dropped the cube, stifling a cough, Hound had Elita’s attention once again.  “--so I was thinking we could go to the rally next week.  I hate going to these things alone, and I know you’ve been following her campaign…”

Elita cocked her head to the side and tipped the chair backward, looping an arm over the back.  “Well, we were planning on going already.  I’m sure there’s room for one more.”

Firestar grinned and nudged me.  “Or two, as the case may be.”

Elita rolled her head over to look at me, smiling.  “The more the merrier.  You want in, ‘Tronix?”

Oh slag.  What had I missed?  “Uh.  In… to what?”

Chromia made a small, irritated noise, never taking her eyes off the ceiling.  “Starseeker’s rally, of course.”

I turned to Prowl, still confused.  “Who?”

Elita laughed.  “You really don’t get out much, do you, ‘Tronix?”

Prowl shook his head.  “A scientist-turned-philosopher.  She’s claiming the Quints had nothing to do with building Cyberton and us.  In fact, she’s saying they were sent by some made-up King of Oblivion to _enslave_ us.  Life may be rough, but I don’t feel like I’ve got shackles on.  She’s a crackpot.”

_“Is not!”_   Elita stood up so fast her chair fell over.  She leaned over the table, glaring at her brother.  “Her theories may sound strange, Prowl, but they make sense!  Have you _seen_ the Quints?  They _can’t_ be Cybertronian!  Their physiology is _clearly_ alien!  But that hardly matters, the way they treat us!  The conditions on the lower levels have been getting steadily worse, not just here, but _everywhere!_ At least Starseeker’s trying to make things better!”

That pushed Prowl over the line, and out of his own chair.  “And I’m not?!  Why do you think I joined the Peacekeepers, ‘Lita?  Because it’s what Dad did?  Because it’s my _designation?!”_

Chromia and Flatfoot gently pulled the siblings back down into their seats.  “Quiet,” the elder Peacekeeper admonished, “there’s no need to call attention to ourselves.  Have a drink, both of you.”

“I’ll even buy,” Chromia hissed.  “Just shut up.  You’re gonna start a barfight.”

After another round or two, things were back to normal.  My processor was humming pleasantly, and I was starting to not mind the music and shouting nearly as much.  “So this Starseeker,” I started, “what exactly is she saying?”

Elita shrugged.  “That the Quints aren’t our true leaders, and we need to get rid of ‘em.”

Prowl scoffed.  “And who would she put in their place?”

Elita smiled.  “A council, boltbrain.  Led by the Prime.”

That surprised a short laugh from me, which I immediately regretted.  “Is-- Isn’t that just a nursery tale?  I mean, Primus choosing a Champion to unite the Six Legendary Tribes and rule in peace eternal?  I mean, it sounds nice but--”

_“I_ think it’s possible,” Elita said angrily, glaring into her energon.  “I mean, why not?  If someone were to find the Matrix--”

“They’d sooner find a flying warp-rat,” Prowl retorted.  “It’s just a story, ‘Lita.  You can’t fix your problems with nursery tales.”

“I dunno,” Flatfoot said, rejoining the conversation.  “It’d have to be a pretty big miracle, I know, but you don’t stay in our line of work long without starting to believe in ‘em.”

Prowl shook his head.  “Whatever.  All I’m saying is that you can’t fix the system by going directly against it.  You have to change things slowly, or it won’t last.”

Hound, who had been mostly quiet this evening, jumped in.  “But that’s what’s been being tried for years!  The philosophers and politicians have been working on improving life in the lower levels, speeding up the bureaucracy, and whatever else to fix this city, but as soon as they make any progress?  Gone.  Without a trace.  Doesn’t that sound suspicious? 

Firestar slammed her empty energon cube down on the table.  “Oh come _on!_   You lot are just _killing_ my buzz.I, for one, _did not_ come here tonight to squabble over political slag!  What happened to having a good time?”

Elita nodded, relenting.  “Okay, okay.  You’ve got a point, ‘Star.  You pick the next subject.”

“Thank you,” she grumped.  “Alright, lessee here…”  She grinned and kicked Prowl’s leg under the table.  “How’s it going with that cute Peacekeeper femme you were talking about?  The one from your stint in Kaon?”

Prowl’s face looked like I felt every time I spoke to Elita.  And it was _hilarious._

Hours later, I stumbled out of the bar, Prowl and Hound on either side, the three of us supporting each other as we shuffled down the street, laughing.  We were some of the last to leave, being threatened with getting drafted into helping close down if we didn’t go now.

“You guys… You guys’re the best,” I mumbled.  “I never would’a done this if not for you Prowl.  Thanksh.”

Prowl giggled, something he would never do sober.  “Pfft.  Yer _suuuuper_ overcharged, ‘Tronix.  You need a _nap.”_

Hound laughed.  “Speak fer yerself Prowl.  You’re the one who sounds overcharged t’me.”

“Guys, guys, guys.”  I shook my head.  “We’re _aaall_ overcharged.”

“Hey,” Hound said, “he’s right!”

The trip by foot was longer than the trip by alt, and we were all a bit more sober by the time we had to go our separate ways.  We could stand on our own, at least, when we made our goodbyes.

I stumbled down the sidewalk, still too overcharged to risk using my alt, even on the mostly-empty roads.  I took a shortcut down a side-street, realizing I needed to get home soon to avoid violating curfew.  I wasn’t more than a few yards down it when I heard a voice in an alley.

 “--that not nice!  You going to _regret_ that.”

I moved to where I could see what was going on, and the scene in the alley was enraging.

Five large mechs surrounded one other, much smaller and probably younger.  Without a second thought, I lurched forward and kicked a waste-disposal bin to get their attention.  “What do you jerks think you’re doing?!”

The smallest of the five (who was still bigger than I was) stepped forward.  “This not your fight, stranger.  Go now.”

“Is now,” I yelled.  “Five on one, that’s hardly fair in the first place, let alone when the one’s a kid!”

“‘Kid?!’”  The smaller mech let out an indignant screech.  “I don’t _need_ your help, you _insufferable--”_

The other mech, the one who’d spoken, took another step forward, reaching to intercept me.  “You not know what you doing--”

“I know enough,” I growled, batting the larger mech’s arm away.  He stumbled, surprised, and I got a clear look at the leader of the group.  Or rather, a slightly-blurred one as he snarled and barreled towards me.

I jumped to the side, letting him dive past me into the street.  The thudding noise of running feet and a bestial snarl alerted me to the next attacker, coming from behind.  I ducked, and he went headfirst into the disposal bin I’d kicked, bouncing off of it and sprawling on the ground.

The leader of the group picked himself up off the pavement, roaring, and charged again, grabbing me by the shoulders and swinging me into the wall.  My head slammed into steel, and the alley spun out of focus.  I could feel my processor shutting down with panic.

The massive mech leaned in close and roared again, visor glowing with rage.  _“No.  Hurt.  Grimlock’s.  Friends.”_

I twisted in his grip, struggling to get my scrambled circuits back in order.  I had to clear my head, had to focus.  There was always a solution, if I could just _find_ it.  I couldn’t get my legs up high enough to kick him away, and I sure as anything couldn’t overpower him.  My head was spinning.  There had to be something--  Oh.

I swung my head forward as hard as I could, smashing my forehead into his.  Stunned, he let go and stumbled backwards.

I slipped to the ground, dazed, and tried to figure out which of the four alleyways I could see was the right one to focus on.

Then I heard the leader -- Grimlock? -- growl as he started to clear his head.  Without thinking, I swung my leg up and felt it connect with the back of his knee.  He swung forward, smashing his head into the wall again.  Then, past him, I saw the smallest of the mechs grab the kid.  Really, I saw four of them grab four different kids, because I was still dazed, so I made my best guess and jumped.  Thankfully, I hit the right one, and we all fell into a pile.

I couldn’t see much from the bottom of the heap, but I felt the kid untangle himself and stand.  I tried to get up, but I was pinned beneath the larger mech.

_Zot!  Thunk.  Zot!  Thunk._

Fear for the little mech fueling me, I shoved free of the fallen mech and looked around.  The kid stood over the unconscious -- I hoped -- bodies of the other two assailants.  Then their leader, recovered from his daze, swung his head around to see the source of the noise.  He roared again, I think I yelled, and we both lunged for the kid.

Thank Primus I was faster.

I snatched the kid up, spun as soon as my feet hit metal, and started running for the street.  The mech I’d tackled, the smallest of the five, started to get up as I approached.  I jumped onto the disposal-bin, sprang towards the exit, and didn’t stop running until I was three streets away.

"You okay kid,” I managed after a moment, feeling the brawl and mad dash for safety in every inch of my frame as I set him down.

The young mech stared at me imperiously.  “My name is Starscream,” he snapped, lifting his chin.  “You would do well to remember it.”

I glared right back.  “Listen, _twerp,_ I just saved your ungrateful shiny hide back there!”

He crossed his arms and turned away.  “I could’ve handled them myself.  I didn’t need you.”  After a moment, he looked back over his shoulder.  “Well, you did make yourself useful, at least.”

“Happy to be of service,” I said dryly.  “Now.  Where are your parents?”

“Not far,” he replied, his tone no less annoying.  “I was actually on my way home when those cretins attacked me.”  We stood in silence for a moment before he spoke again.  “You can go now.  I don’t require further ‘aid.’”

I just stood there and stared at him, my arms crossed and one eyebrow lifted.

“Ugh.  _Fine._   It’s this way.”

We walked in silence, Starscream half a step ahead, towards the Science Quarter.  It was the opposite direction from my own apartment, but I could find my way home easily enough once I made sure the brat was safe.  The buildings around us were offices and labs, not residential, when he stopped at the external doors of one.

“Well, goodbye then,” he said, without a trace of sentiment.

“Nope,” I responded with a wry grin.  “Lead on, Starscream.  I’m making sure you find an adult and they know what happened.”

Starscream groaned again, his shoulders sagging.  “I’m not a _child,_ you brainless oaf.  I can walk up a flight of stairs without _dying.”_

“Prove it.”

Starscream’s optics narrowed, flashing red in the streetlamps’ glow.  Without a word, he straightened, spun on his heel, and slammed a hand onto the doorpad.  It slid open easily, and we walked inside.

True to his word, Starscream led me up three flights of stairs, down several winding corridors, and through a multitude of probably-locked doors before he stopped at one.

“This is my mother’s lab,” he said tersely.  “There, I am safe.  What an accomplishment.  _Huzzah._ Now shoo.”

“Sarcasm only rusts your processor,” I said cheerily, raising a hand to knock on the door.

A massively-tall mech answered.  “Er, yes?  How may I--  _Starscream!”_   The mech’s face split into a relieved smile as he knelt and hugged the much-shorter mech.  “Oh, thank Primus!  When you disappeared, we were so worried!”  He pulled away and took Starscream by the shoulders.  “Where have you been?!  Your mother is worried sick!  _I_ was worried sick!   You can’t just go running off like that!”

Starscream pushed away, angry.  “I’m almost as old as you are, Jetfire.  Don’t treat me like a sparkling.”

A femme appeared in the doorway behind Jetfire, fumbling with a pair of dark goggles over her optics.  “Starscream?  Is that you, dear?”  She was dressed in a scientist’s work-robes, designed to protect her chassis from damage while working with dangerous chemicals or lasers or the like.  Freeing the workwear from her face, she saw me and her visor contorted in confusion.  “…Who are you?”

I stretched out a hand.  “My name’s Optronix, ma’am.  I passed Starscream here on the street, helped him out of a tight spot.  After that, I felt like I needed to make sure he was safe, so I escorted him here.  I hope that’s okay.”

The femme’s mouthplate shifted into a smile as she took my offered hand and shook it vigorously.  “That’s wonderful!  Thank you so much!  I’m so glad my little ‘Screamer is making friends.”

“Mother, _please.”_   Starscream’s tone was as acidic as it was pleading.  “Goodbye,” he snapped, glaring at me over his shoulder as he pushed his way inside, bringing the older scientists with him.  The door slid shut with a quiet hiss, clicking as it locked into place.

"You’re welcome,” I sighed, staring at the sealed doorway.  With a shrug, I turned and started back the way we’d come.  It took a little while, thanks to the unfamiliar layout, but soon enough I was back on the street.

As I stepped out the door, I heard the curfew-sirens ring.  “Aw, scrap,” I muttered.  I’d never been out past curfew, but I knew a night in lockup was _not_ how I meant to close this night.

I decided I was sober enough to manage my alt-form on an empty street, and started rolling towards home, taking the back roads and as many shortcuts as I knew of.  As I walked in the door, Ironhide sat up from his chair in the common area.

“Kid!  I was wonderin’ when you’d get back.  D’ya get caught up in another ’file at the library?”

I laughed.  “No.  I actually went out and had some _normal_ fun, believe it or not.”  I stifled a yawn, finally feeling the exhaustion I was due after the adventures I‘d just had.  “It was a pretty eventful night, all told.  I’ll tell you about it in the morning, but for now…”

Ironhide nodded.  “I know the feeling.  Need a hand up?”

I waved him off.  “Nah, I got this.  Thanks, though.”  I shuffled past him and over to the staircase.

“Oh, to the Pits with stairs,” I grumbled after gazing blankly at them for a moment.  “I’m taking the levipad.”  Ironhide laughed as I stepped onto it, bracing myself against the rail.  The ‘pad moved up with a lurch, bringing me to the second floor quickly enough.  From there it was a short walk to where I could rest and recharge.

I didn’t remember the datafile until I saw it on my recharge berth.  I groaned to myself, glaring at it.  I didn’t want to read it now, tired as I was.  All I wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep.

Still, I probably wasn’t going to get another chance.  I slipped the file into the reader and sat down on the berth, starting to look over the history in my hands.

What I read was astounding.  “Dear _Primus…”_


End file.
